The Boy is Mine
by kezztip
Summary: Set during the Mercedes/Santana sing-off in Laryngitis - who does Puck really belong to? One shot.


**A.N. Welcome to my first one-shot! I've written other fanfics before but I've never been able to fit my story into one chapter before so I'm quite proud of myself. Anyhow, hope you enjoy. Glee and its characters belongs to Fox and Ryan Murphy and the song belongs to Brandy and Monica, but the rest is all mine.**

_You need to give it up  
__Had about enough  
__He belongs to me  
__The boy is mine_

Life is funny, you know? Just last Monday I was dragging my ass around at the bottom of the food chain, thanks to my crazy overprotective mother siccing that Mohawk-butchering doc on me. Now here I am, front row seat to watching the hottest catfight set to music _ever - _and I'm the prize. Doesn't hurt that it's two of the most popular girls in school, either. Cheerleaders, God love 'em. What more could a BAMF ask for?

_Think it's time we got this straight  
__Sit and talk face to face  
__There is no way you could mistake  
__Him for your man are you insane_

Speaking of insane… yep, there she is. Back row sitting next to Finn. Guess maybe that dusty old Rick Springfield track had some effect on her after all. Whatever. Girl is a whore for score. I'm living proof of that. Remember the supply closet after I sang _Sweet Caroline_… damn, that mouth is talented, and I'm not just talking about what comes out of it. 'Course, that's old news now. Current events are much more entertaining. Whoa, Santana's totally gonna take someone's eye out if she keeps whipping that tail around. Don't get me wrong, the Latina hair toss is seriously hot but even a stud with my cat-like reflexes has failed to dodge on occasion. That shit stings, man.

_You see I know that you may be  
__Just a bit jealous of me_

This is ridiculous. That I should be subjected to watching two of my fellow glee-sisters engage in musical fisticuffs over that oversexed cretin… ooh, as soon as my voice comes back I will have a few words to say to Mr Schuester about placing certain boundaries on subject matter when we are permitted to choose our own songs. I mean, just look at how Finn publicly mortified yours truly by singing that song to me yesterday (really, it was more like _at_ me). It wasn't even accurate – even if I did have feelings for Jesse – I mean, _do_ have – that doesn't make me his girl. Rachel Berry is no man's "girl", she has a mind of her own and a will stronger than iron that no man can ever distract her from her goa – wait, is he smirking? I cannot believe he is just sitting there, watching this travesty and smirking! Oh no, he's turning his head. Look away, Rachel, smile at Finn. Crisis averted. Except now Finn is smiling back at me, that hopeful look back in his eye. Yikes!

_Cause you're blind if you can't see  
__All his love is all in me_

What the hell is Berry grinning at Frankenteen for? Man, isn't that shtick ever getting old for her? I don't know what her problem is, always chasing dudes that treat her heart like a dog's chew toy. At least the thing between us was always straightforward – good, clean, honest lust. No pansy-ass emotions muddying the waters (_hands washing slushee out of the hawk, hugs in the choir room at 3.30_). OK, so maybe there was some mud. But mostly it was hot jew on jew action and… what the hell am I doing? Hot chicks fighting over you at 12 o'clock, dude. _Focus_.

_You need to give it up  
__Had about enough  
__It's not hard to see  
__The boy is mine_

Goodness, Mercedes and Santana are rapidly approaching some kind of boiling point. Not to mention all their spinning around each other is making poor Britney so dizzy she appears to be about to fall off her chair. Is there any man alive worth publicly brawling over, I wonder? Logically speaking, I would have to go with a definitive 'no'. Unfortunately, logic and Noah do not have so much as a nodding acquaintance. How does he entice even the most intelligent, emotionally aware young ingénues to fall under his spell? Maybe there's something in that whole pheromones theory, where the male induces sexual arousal just by the way he smells (Noah's fragrance is almost as lovely as his arms). Clearly, the man is a menace and should be locked away for the sanity of all right-thinking females. Oh, thank goodness, our fearless leader is finally going to step in before the bloodshed commences.

"That was intense," Mr Shuester mediated, holding the hot-tempered girls apart. "I gotta give you guys props on the passion, maybe hold back on the animosity a little."

"No, you're right," Santana nodded and then, as soon as Mr Shue removed his hand, promptly lunged for her dark skinned rival. There was no getting around it, Puck could feel the mood changing from sexy to ugly. Suddenly all eyes were turning to him, the stares of accusation making him shift awkwardly in his seat. Except for one pair of fine brown eyes that appeared to be fascinated by her own cuticles. Puck's eyes narrowed as he watched Finn casually place his arm along the back of Rachel's chair, leaning into her personal space in his efforts to crane towards Puck. Alright, time to put an end to this. The Puckasaurus doesn't let the chick decide who he belongs to; he owns that shit himself.

"Ladies, ladies, you gotta hold yourselves back," Puck said, walking towards his girlfriend and his sex buddy with hands held up in surrender. "I mean, clearly, I'm worth it," he allowed, making a circular motion over his face, "but there's a better way to settle this than bitch-slapping each other as you roll around on the choir room floor," _Santana's short skirt flying, black chick's cleavage pushing up_. Puck shook the distracting thoughts from his head. "Which is why I propose – a roster system." Puck smirked at the sound of an outraged little gasp hailing from the back row, but that quickly disappeared once he saw the looks his proposal inspired from his two woman harem. "I'm kidding," Puck laughed disarmingly. _Worth a try…_

"Look, Puck, you've got to choose who your woman is, here and now," Mercedes demanded, one hand on hip and finger waving. "I'm sick of fighting the stick-figure over your sorry butt."

Santana nodded in agreement. "She's right. Time to set the record straight, baby. Do you want to be fetching Wheezy's full fat coffee drinks for the rest of the year? Or do you want to be my free period hook-up in the fourth-floor washroom boy? Hmmm?" she questioned with a flirtatious head tilt.

Puck furrowed his brow, giving the question serious thought. "Well, when you put it like that, my choice is obvious." Puck set himself up in the performance space in front of the piano, as always enjoying the attention that comes from being an awesome sex god. "My choice is…" he motioned to the kid with the sticks for a suspense-building drumroll as the glee club waited breathlessly on his decision. He scanned his girls for their reactions. Santana folded her arms, looking smugly confident. Mercedes just looked angry, probably trying to sway his vote from fear factor alone. Quinn just looked bored; she had made it crystal clear that she was not interested in going back for seconds, not with her belly so full from the last time (they were on the same page there - he found she made a better friend than girlfriend). And Rachel… she was doing that sexy biting-her-lower-lip thing that she does when she doesn't know what's coming but she's got a strong feeling she's not going to like it. Her eyes widened when he held her gaze, his mouth tilting up into a devilish smirk. She remembered that smirk, and not just from six months ago when they dated. No, she had occasion to be on its receiving end a lot more recently…

_Flashback to last Monday_

To say that Puck's new hairstyle created a stir was something of an understatement. As he shuffled into the choir room, head down and expression surly, all the gleeks stared at him in astonishment. I mean, he knew the 'hawk created fear and awe, but he thought his guns counted for _something_, damn it. But now people were staring at him like they'd never seen him before – literally in Britany's case, when she whispered to Santana "Who is that guy?"

For some reason, the reaction that grated the most was Berry's. Her jaw practically dropped off its hinge when she saw him, eyes wider than a fucking Disney woodland creature. Then for the rest of the practice she wouldn't even look at him, averting her eyes like his hair had been the ark of the covenant's lid and now she's scared her face is going to melt off if she looks directly at him. He was all ready to grab her by the chin and force her pretty-ass face up to his when it happened. Shue put him and Rachel together for part of the choreography for some '80's radio shit song (that Finn just loves, of course) and he had to twirl Berry under his arm and then hold her to his chest, one arm at her waist as she clasps his wrist with her cute hands (just in grazing distance of her boobs – nice). And he didn't even need to hear the hitch in her breath or the way her eyes darkened the same way they did when they were rolling around on her bed from that crazy lost week, he can just _feel_ it, the horniness rolling in waves off her. That's when he gets why she can't look him in the eye since he lost his 'do'.

Shaved heads give Rachel Berry serious lady wood.

After practice when the last of the gleeks is filtering out the doorway, he decided to make his approach. "So, Berry," he drawls from behind her, causing sheet music to scatter across the floor as she jumps nervously. "What's the deal with you and St Douche?"

"Jesse is on spring break with his old school friends at present," Rachel skirted the question, bending down to pick up the papers. Noah took a moment to appreciate her position – Man, those skirts just keep getting shorter – before crouching next to her, idly picking up the odd page.

"Are you guys still hot and heavy for each other? Or did that stinker of a video you made send him running?"

Rachel glared at this over-muscled buffoon's lack of tact. Granted, it was a commodity she herself was in short supply of but that didn't stop her expecting it from others.

"Although we are not officially dating at this time I have the utmost confidence that upon his return we will rectify the points of dispute that have temporarily derailed our epic romance." Puck took a moment to decipher the Berry-speak.

"So, what, you're single now?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Not that it is any concern of yours, but yes, I am currently unaffiliated – mmmph!" Her eloquent reply was cut short by Puck's mouth suddenly pressing against hers. She believes she would have pulled away immediately if it weren't for the way his arms were wrapped around her like warm steel, mashing her against his incredibly well built body. At least, that was the story she was going with. It was at least 20 minutes later before she had the strength to gasp out a weak protest.

"Noah, as you know I am ironically turned on by your bad boy image, but I still have feelings for Jesse and don't wish to jeopardise our future relationship by engaging in a torrid affair with you." _As tempting a prospect as that is…_

"No sweat, babe," Puck assured as he mouthed hot kisses along her neck, pausing to apply particular pressure to that spot that made her body become loose and compliant. It was like his own Vulcan neck pinch. "My image needs some serious CPR since I lost my mohawk mojo, which means I'll have to start hanging out with a popular chick until I'm back to the point where the dweebs start peeing their pants when they see me coming."

Rachel frowned, pulling away. "You want to date me to help your image?"

Puck rolled his eyes. "No, Berry, I said a _popular_ chick. Let's face it, darlin', you only meet half the criteria. So we keep this thing between us on the down-low and everybody's happy." He moved in to resume the kissage but Rachel wasn't having any of it.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rachel Berry is not a 'bit on the side'. Rachel Berry is the main attraction!" Puck smirked at her indignant reaction. God help him but she was hot when she went into one of her primadonna rants.

"How about a compromise," Puck offered, tracing one finger down her arm, causing goosebumps to dapple her skin. "You get to pick the girl."

Rachel thought this over, trying to come up with someone who was popular but unlikely to raise his temperature. Her eyes brightened. "I know just the girl."

In hindsight, choosing an angry young black woman who could tear her apart like a chicken wing probably wasn't the best choice as a beard for her secret paramour. Just like becoming entangled with a man who came complete with his own personal jealous Latina ex-girlfriend was probably not one of her more savvy life choices. These points were driven home when the drumroll ended and Puck announced "And the winner is… Rachel Berry!" Suddenly two sets of jealous eyes are burning holes right through her soul. Finn looks at her like she just beat up Santa Claus in front of a truckload of orphans while the rest of the glee club fold their arms and await the latest developments of the Rachel Berry teen soap opera.

Rachel gingerly moved around her giant would-be boyfriend towards her until recently secret boyfriend, talking in her best overly confident, take-charge tone as she moved towards the stage.

"I think what Noah is trying to say is that the human heart is a vessel of strong and unmanageable emotion, especially for young people as tuned into the music of life as we are, and given that fact no blame can be affixed or levelled because of the wayward direction this unpredictable vessel may take and I believe if you two would just take a moment to look into your own hearts you would find – "

"Girl, I am gonna break you into kindling," Mercedes interrupted.

"And then I'm lighting the match," Santana added, as they each took a menacing step towards the small brunette.

"Well, all I have to say to that is… NOAH, RUN!" Rachel had sprinted halfway to the door when it occurred to Puck just what a good idea that was. His longer legs caught up to her in the corridor where he grabbed her hand, steering them to the school parking lot. It wasn't until he saw Santana and Mercedes angry figures growing smaller in the reflection of his rear view mirror that he took a full breath. Rachel was still hyperventilating next to him and he was just beginning to wonder uneasily where he could get hold of a paper bag for her when she started talking.

"Oh my God, Oh my God, what just happened?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just pissed off two of the most dangerous bitches at McKinley High." Rachel did not look grateful for the recap.

"I know that, Noah! My burning question is _what the hell were you thinking_? Perhaps you're a little fuzzy on this detail but the whole point of a secret romance is that _no-one else knows about it_!"

Puck tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "What, you worried about what Jesse StJerk is going to think? Or did I just get in the way of your latest next-go-round with Finn?"

"For your information, I have no interest in Jesse's opinion on this matter or any other and as for Finn's attentions, yesterday's little performance was a prime example of how discomforting they have become."

Puck gave her a sidelong glance as he pulled into her driveway. "No shit?" he asked warily.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "If you mean am I speaking genuinely, then yes, Noah, no shit. However, as for making me the target of your two woman hit squad – "

"Berry, you know how you said you were gonna take a vow of silence to get your singing voice back?" Noah reached over and pulled her onto his lap. "Now would be a good time to start."

Rachel allowed his lips to silence her for a minute before she drew away and looked at him with serious eyes. "Why did you do it?"

Puck shrugged as he ghosted his thumb along her full lower lip. "Maybe I didn't like the way those girls thought they had a claim on me, even though they were just using me for their own ends. Or maybe it pissed me off how Finn kept marking his territory all over you with you not seeming to mind too much. Or maybe," Puck said, as his hands smoothed along her curves and his lips softly tasted hers, "maybe I just got sick of waiting for it to be our time."

"Our time?" Rachel questioned softly.

"Seems like you gave Finn and Jesse a decent shot with you – I mean, just look at all those second chances you gave Finn. Us, you cut short in less than a week and I didn't even cheat on you or sext with other girls."

"Sext?"

"Point is, I deserve a shot." Puck gave her his best chick-slaying-stare-down to hide the fact he was a bundle of nerves at that moment, especially as her own expression wasn't giving anything away.

Finally she said, "You know, if we date openly, they're probably going to start calling us Puckleberry again."

Puck barked out a relieved laugh. "Bring it."

Much later, after they had taken full advantage of Rachel's fathers absence (it was their 'date night'), Puck noticed Rachel singing a familiar song under her breath as she drew little circles over his heart with her finger. "What's that you singin', crazy girl?"

Rachel looked up at her now fully fledged boyfriend and sang in a sultry (if off-key) voice

_I'm sorry that you  
__Seem to be confused  
__He belongs to me  
__The boy is mine_

**A.N. If you like, please review!**


End file.
